Page 45 of Tormented Diamonds

Anton glares at it through three full rings before meetingmy eyes. “That’s the fifth time he’s called. You can’t keep ignoring him.”

“I disagree.” I hit the mute button without looking down.

He sighs. “Do you really think antagonizing him is a smart idea?”

No. It’s the strategic equivalent of running blindfolded across four lanes of traffic. However, while searching for Marcello’s Rhode Island ringleader, I’ve adopted a strict “fuck-all-the-way-off” policy. Now, with this whole Damiano layer added, it’s even more important to keep my circle tight. No contact is the only contact the Authority is getting until I verify who has a hand in this multi-state game of Whack-a-Mole.

“Let me worry about Toscano,” I say, as if I have any sort of game plan. “You two worry about figuring out the link between Saddler and this Dagger asshole before he gets to Becca. I want a name by tomorrow.” Then, before I can change my mind, I center my stare on Owen. “And narrow your surveillance to focus on Carmine Damiano. I want him tracked so closely I know the exact time that fucker takes a shit; got it?”

He must, because instead of pushback, I get a tight nod and diverted stare.

Apparently, Anton is placated by Owen’s scared straight act, because he turns to him, the tempest in him calming. “Can you send me that IP address for the burner?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“I’ll get it over to my contact. I don’t know if it’ll help, but it’s more than we had before.”

I sit back, my unease growing as I watch them. Something about the way this thing is unfolding sets me on edge. I can’t help but wonder if this Dagger bastard is really the threat I’ve considered him to be, or if I’ve been chasing the smoke of a closer gun?

And if he’s operating on a strike-firstagenda, what’s with the circling vulture act?

What’s hereallyafter?

“We’re still missing something,” I announce to no one in particular. It’s a thought that keeps needling in my head like an itch I can’t scratch. “Something more than Carmine’s potential involvement or this Dagger’s identity.”

Anton cocks his head. “Like what?”

“If I knew that, then it wouldn’t be missing.”

His attention shifts to his phone. “Yeah, well, until you find it, maybe my contact can find something that’ll crack the firewall and give us a name.”

I’m tired of this cryptic shit. “Who’s this contact of yours?”

Anton just sits there with his mouth shut. A few more moments of strained silence, and I’ve had enough.

“This really isn’t the time to test me.”

He runs his tongue along the back of his teeth, his stare a flat sheet of ice. “I’ll tell you when you tell your wife your villain origin story.”

Fucking dick.

I knew she didn’t pull that request out of her ass. If I wasn’t low on reliable allies, I’d rip his tongue out and mount it on the wall.

The sixth time my phone goes off, my temper snaps. I don’t even look at the screen before answering, my molars clenched so hard my jaw clicks. “What?”

“Gianni?” a soft, familiar voice says.

“Sera…” A spark of fear grips my spine. There’s something in her tone I don’t like. It’s too cautious. Like a wounded bird stumbling near a waiting tiger. “What’s wrong?”

“There’s been an accident,” she says, a choked sob unraveling her composure. “You need to get to All Saints Memorial in Bloomfield …now.”

I stand, my arm dropping bymy side.

Becca.

Past and present collide in a violent explosion of fire and loss.

“Gianni?” Anton calls out as I stalk toward the door, my vision a tunnel of fear and fury. “Are you all right?”